Stargazing
by Laiqalasse
Summary: An encounter on the wall after Helm's Deep


Disclaimer: they've never been mine before and they're still not, though i can always hope...  
  
Author's Notes: i finished this one a long time ago but wasn't really happy with it so i let it sit. a couple days ago i was cleaning out my fic folder and found this one. i blew the dust off and re-read. this time i liked it, so now i'm posting it.  
  
this is a match that i've never seen any fic for, though i love it. i'm not quite willing to say who it is in these notes, so read on and i hope you enjoy it. please be aware that this is slash, though relatively mild.  
  
finally, thanks to TrinityC for beta-ing. any mistakes are still mine.  
****Stargazing****  
  
"When dawn came dim the land was lost,  
  
The Mountains sinking grey  
  
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed  
  
Their plumes of blinding spray..."  
  
I'm lying on my back on the wall of the Citadel of Minas Tirith. The night sky is clear above me and the stars call to me to sing so I am obliging them. The wind blows cold but I don't shiver. The beauty of this night is too great to be marred by a mere breeze. I am surprised when a soft baritone joins my tenor, blending perfectly. My voice doesn't falter though I am trying to figure out who else in this city would know the Lay of Nimrodel. Obviously Estel does, but this voice is deeper and richer than his is. I refuse to break this perfect moment by sitting up and my companion does not move into my field of vision so I'll just have to wait until we finish to find out who my mystery vocalist is.  
  
"The wind was in his flowing hair.  
  
The foam about him shone;  
  
Afar they saw him strong and fair  
  
Go riding like a swan.  
  
But from the West has come no word,  
  
And on the Hithre Shore  
  
No tidings Elven-folk have heard  
  
Of Amroth ever more..."  
  
I let my voice die away and my companion also falls silent. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to keep the image of Amroth in my mind. "You're not going to finish the song, Golden One?"  
  
Again I am surprised and my lips quirk up just a bit. "I'm sorry. Would you like for me to continue?" I open my eyes and sit up, drawing my knees to my chest. I glance over my shoulder and all conscious thought stops for a moment. Standing behind me is the vision of Amroth himself. Long dark hair flutters in the breeze and grey eyes laugh silently at me. "Prince Imrahil." I acknowledge the Prince of Dol Amroth.  
  
"Please. I wish no title from you, Prince Legolas. Imrahil will be fine." Now he is laughing quietly at me, though not unkindly. He sits on the wall in front of me. "I hope I'm not intruding?"  
  
"Not at all and please just call me Legolas." I am unsure of what to say next so I keep silent, my gaze shifting between the man in front of me and the stars above. Earendil is shining bright, as always, and I can spot Luinil twinkling blue far overhead. An involuntary sigh escapes. The magic of the stars always manages to enthrall me.  
  
"They're beautiful, aren't they? I spend many nights at home on the beach watching the stars travel across the sky with the sound of the waves in my ears. It is really quite soothing." His voice is soft and quiet. Almost hypnotic.  
  
I shudder slightly at Imrahil's mention of the beach for in my mind I can also picture the Sea. Huge blue-grey waves capped in white foam, rising high then crashing down upon the sand. The sunlight sparkling off the blue- grey water. Sea gulls circling above, occasionally diving into the surf...  
  
Fingers brush the back of my hand and my eyes fly open. Imrahil is looking at me with concerned eyes and his hand still lingers on mine. "Is everything all right Legolas?"  
  
I nod, feeling guilty for causing him to worry. "It is nothing, I'm sorry. Just... the Sea..."  
  
His strong yet fair face softens in understanding. "I am the one who should apologize for I had forgotten about the Sea-longing that calls to your kind. Do you feel it strongly?" I cannot keep myself from noticing that he still holds my hand, his thumb sweeping over my knuckles. I wonder idly whether he's doing it intentionally or if it is a subconscious effort to soothe me. In truth it matters not and I am happy to let him continue.  
  
"I do not feel it as strongly as some of my race for I live far from the Sea. The Longing is newly awakened in me though I dread the cry of the gull for I fear it will be my downfall. Still... sometimes I am curious about what the Sea looks like, sounds like, feels like." I can feel myself falling away, retreating into my head as the images and sounds of the Sea fill my mind. I struggle, but finally manage to return to Minas Tirith. I grasp for anything to say to distract myself. "Tell me about your home. What are you fighting to save?"  
  
He smiles and for the first time I see not Imrahil the warrior, but Imrahil the Prince. His voice is filled with pride and his eyes brighten as he launches into a vivid description of Dol Amroth. It sounds beautiful and I would be very tempted to visit if it wasn't so close to the Sea. He describes it as a sprawling city with wide clear streets and many large gardens. The thought that I could be happy there bursts into my mind and I banish it just as quickly.  
  
Then he speaks of his daughter. She sounds much like him; tall with dark hair and fair eyes. I wonder what she got from her mother. With that uncomfortable thought I attempt to pull my hand from his grasp but he stubbornly refuses to let go. He reads my concerns easily and his voice is soothing. "Legolas, please. You've heard me speak of my beautiful daughter but you apparently did not notice that I've not mentioned my wife." I nod slightly. "My wife died giving birth to Lothiriel." His grey eyes become dark and it seems as though a shadow has crossed his face.  
  
"I'm sorry." I squeeze his hand gently. "I didn't know..."  
  
"I know you didn't and therefore you have no need to apologize." The wind picks up and whips my hair around my face. I reach up to shepherd the stray strands back into place but the tall dark man in front of me beats me to it. He still holds my left hand in his right so he brushes my hair back with his left. His fingers brush across the sensitive point of my ear as he tucks my hair away. I shiver at the contact, my eyes fluttering shut. Just when I begin to recover, it starts all over again. This time the contact is slow and deliberate. I bite my lip to keep from crying out and Imrahil chuckles. "Sensitive?" His whispered breath tickles my left ear unexpectedly and I gasp.  
  
He releases my hand only to frame my face with his warm hands. I open my eyes to meet his steady, welcoming grey gaze and I try to fill my own eyes with warmth and desire. Long, slender thumbs sweep across my cheekbones and I bow into his hands. My eyes flutter shut and I can hear my heart beating loudly in my ears. Time slows and I can feel our lips being inevitably pulled together.  
  
The pounding in my ears grows louder but suddenly I am aware that the rhythm in my ears doesn't match the rhythm in my chest. Finally it dawns on me. Footsteps! Regretfully I pull away and see confusion and hurt pass across Imrahil's face. I realize that he hasn't heard the approaching steps and I reach out to pass my hand across his brow, attempting to brush the trouble from his face. "Someone's coming," I explain.  
  
Relief and understanding make the corners of his mouth turn upward. As one we move from our seats on the wall to stand side-by-side, waiting for whoever is coming. Not many moments later a half-grown boy comes flying around the corner and relief floods his face as he slides to a stop in front of us.  
  
"My Lords..." He gasps for breath and it is a few moments before he can continue. "Lord Aragorn requires your presence at the pavilion. I was to fetch you and bring you back."  
  
"Go on boy, we'll follow in a few moments." Imrahil's voice is soft yet it books no room for argument. Or so I thought.  
  
"But Sir, Lord Aragorn was adamant that I return with you..." The boy's eyes are wide with fright and I have to keep myself from smiling.  
  
"Lord Aragorn will not hurt you, child. Go on and tell him that we are right behind you." The child's face is skeptical and I allow myself to smile at him. "Don't worry. If he yells at you he will have to answer to me and he knows better than that." I wink at the boy and he openly gapes at me. I smile again kindly and gently turn him around, giving him a soft push down the corridor. "I promise you, we will be right on your heels." The boy opens his mouth then closes it again without uttering a word. Finally he shrugs and slowly walks off. I hold my breath until I can no longer hear his footsteps, then the air rushes out of my lungs in a loud sigh. I turn toward Imrahil and he regards me with amusement.  
  
"Well done, Golden One." He runs a hand through my hair and gazes sadly at me for a moment. "We cannot keep Aragorn waiting for I'm sure he would not summon us in such a manner unless it was important, but I cannot leave this evening behind without..." His voice falters and for the first time I see him as Imrahil the man. Vulnerable to the same insecurities and emotions that we all share.  
  
I decide to help him out. "Without doing this?" I lean in and softly press my lips against his. I snake my arms around his neck and feel his fingers entwine in the hair at the nape of my neck. Having taken the lead I deepen the kiss and we melt into each other. We hold the kiss for many long moments and I am just beginning to lose myself in it when Imrahil pulls back. I look into his eyes and see longing, sadness and desire all mixed together. I give him one last chaste kiss then lean against him, pressing my cheek into his shoulder.  
  
"Legolas, if circumstances were different..." His voice is soft, little more than a breath whispered into my ear.  
  
I cannot help the slightly bitter laugh that escapes my throat. "If circumstances were different we probably wouldn't have even met. We can do nothing to change the way things are but we can make the most of it. Perhaps when this is all over..." I am unwilling to finish that sentence for I do not wish to presume. I also do not wish to inspire false hope in either him or myself.  
  
Soft lips press a tender kiss to my brow. "Perhaps." We stand like that for a moment then we draw apart. Aragorn is waiting. We share one last soft look then follow after the boy with the slightest hint of hope between us.  
  
********  
  
so, i hope you guys liked it. if any of you know of any other Legolas/Imrahil fics, PLEASE send me links. i will reward you with Hershey's Kisses. :-) thanks. 


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